Post Mortem
by Girl Who Writes
Summary: He looks down at her and their eyes meet briefly and their lips meet in one last, cool kiss a kiss that left them both wondering exactly how they ended up having to leave each other. Jack & Kate
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Post-Mortem

**Author: **Girl Who Writes

**Email:** Ask and ye shall receive. Take and ye shall be beaten.

**Timeline**: This story takes place two years after the crash.

**Disclaimer: **I make no claim of ownership nor do I make any sort of profit from the use of these characters; they belong to J.J Abrams and the ABC. I am merely a poor fan who just used her last five dollars on EBay.

**Author's Notes: **This story was written with "Movie Magic" in mind. "Movie Magic" just sets the scene for Jack and Kate's relationship. This story will be approximately three chapters of around 650 words and was written to Dido's Album "Life for Rent".

Thank you to everyone who was so nice about my first fic, "Movie Magic". I hope you like this story as much.

* * *

_I always thought that I would like to live by the sea._

They got rescued.

She remembers the day well, standing at the edge of the jungle, watching the others – her _friends_ – line up alone the shoreline, shouting and waving.

She had true friends, for the first time in her life. Once, she had had Tom, but now… now, she has friends.

Sayid and Michael are stoking the fire as fast as they can; matches are being dropped into the sand, fizzing out, dead. Sayid and Michael are swearing and dropping more matches; she comes up behind them, laughing.

"Don't you want to get rescued, Kate?" Sayid looks at her, as she takes the matches and strikes it, lighting the wood the first try.

"Being stuck here wouldn't be the worse thing that's ever happened to me," she smiles to herself and steps back from the fire. She focuses in on it and tunes out the cries of the others.

She can hear Jack yelling himself hoarse, and she wonders. She wonders if the island was that agonising for him; would he remember their time together as a time of suffering because they were stuck on an island haunted by polar bears, or would he look back on his time on the island as something good because she was there with him?

She wonders if he remembers that she won't be going home with him.

She walks over to him, her arms crossed over her chest and a smile on her face. His face is flushed and he's laughing as the ship gets closer to the island. He drops his arm and loops one casually around her waist, staring out to see.

It's over.

Not because she doesn't love him; no, she loves him fiercely; the others found it almost comical how they circled around one another and attempted to protect each other. But they clung to each other; two years they've been here, and they both stayed strong.

No, it's over because the second she sets foot on that ship, she's on her way to prison. She won't be able to talk to him, see him… she'll be behind five inches of reinforced glass holding a grimy telephone to her ear – if he comes to visit her.

She leans into him, and the smile drops off her face. Her arms snake around his waist and for the first time since she met Jack Shepard, she doesn't feel comforted by his presence.

He looks down at her and their eyes meet briefly and their lips meet in one last, cool kiss; a kiss that left them both wondering exactly how they ended up having to leave each other.

She was right; her name was highlighted on the sheet that was faxed through. They had a pair of handcuffs ready for her and there were cries of protest as they hurled her around. And as Jack moved forward and she went to stop him, to tell him that it was alright, that she had earned this, it was Sawyer's fists that went flying.

And while one of the men lay on the sand, his hand cupped around his bleeding nose, Sawyer offered him a bitter smile, pulled a cigarette out of his back pocket and said, in that southern drawl that loaned his sentiments a sarcastic quality, "You don't treat the lady like that."

And she wonders what she did to be called a lady by Sawyer.

And as they lead her to the speed boat, to be taken out to the ship separately from the others, she sees Michael looking at something. Joanna's passport; too late for that now, even if she had gotten around to finishing it. Catching a look of the scorch mark over Joanna's photograph, she feels a vague twinge of regret.

She looks back only once, to see them all crowded along the shoreline, silently. She can hear Aaron crying and she can see Charlie's arm around Claire. She can see Jack and Sawyer stand together but alone as she is escorted out of their lives.

She doesn't see either of them again for a very long time.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: ** I've been worried about this chapter, that people will be disappointed with it. But this is how it came out. As for people mentioning this being the sequel with "Movie Magic", there is a direct sequel which I will post after I have finished this. This is sort of an interlude, I suppose. It's hard to explain, I'm rambling, merely because I am totally avoiding writing an essay on Russian history.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, it really does make my day so much better.

* * *

She's taken back to the United States in hand cuffs. They all want to know exactly what happened to the Marshall who was escorting her when the plane went down. And when she tells the truth, they don't believe her, she gives them names. Jack Shepard treated him for three days before he died. Hugo Reyes helped Jack bandage him up. Everyone heard him scream in pain.

She leaves Sawyer out of it.

They can't charge her for the murder of the Marshall when witness statements start pouring in from the other survivors. But she was a condemned woman long before now. Four million dollars is a lot of money that she doesn't have, so she rejects bail and spends months in a four by eight cell, forgetting what the night sky looked like when there's nothing to block it out.

Her day in court seemed to be put back too many times. She wondered what was going on in the free world, but decided not to care. She choses just to be; everyone is curious about Kate Austin, the fugitive who survived a plane crash and lived on a tropical island for two years.

But eventually, there is nothing stopping her day in court, and she wears a skirt that's too long and heels that are too big. She carries a broken purse with her, containing an orange shirt, three dried guava seeds and the torn front cover of _Watership Down._

She doesn't smile as her state-issued lawyer escorts her to her seat. She doesn't smile as people pile into the court room and whisper about her.

She starts to cry when she hears a familiar British voice call out, "Kate! Kate!"

Charlie and Claire are there, Claire exclaiming how thin she is and Charlie pulling her into a crushing hug. Aaron is balanced on Claire's hip and reaches out for a lock of her hair that has escaped it's pony tail. She laughs and takes Aaron in her arms and he laughs at her and calls her Auntie Katie. And she cries some more.

"Jack's coming too, Kate," Claire says sweetly. "All of us are. Jack's testifying for you. So is Sawyer."

She doesn't want to hear what Sawyer and Jack have to say about her, but she's glad that they're here with her. When Jack is called to the stand, she feels like she's been reanimated by something. She wants to be by his side and wrap her arms around him and cry out the frustrations she's been hoarding since the rescue.

Jack's testimony is glowing, and she feels almost weak at having seen him for the first time in seven months. As he slips out, he offers her a small smile and suddenly the court room seems just a little lighter.

Sawyer's testimony is hardly as glowing, but he does refer to her as Freckles. She never thought she miss hearing Sawyer's condescending tone but she does and she wonders if he'll visit her when she's in jail.

There's a short break, but she doesn't move. She rests her elbows against the table and props her head up, listening to the noise of the court room. And then there's a familiar hand on her shoulder and, in a single smooth movement, she's in his arms, and he's cradling her against his chest.

"It'll work itself out, Kate. I love you."

When the judge calls for a verdict, she stands on shaky legs and wonders how she can get back to the island and if Jack would come with her; would she really want to go without him?

"Guilty."

_Guilty. _

The word rattles around her head for a second, and there's a guard reaching out for her, and she offers her wrists out like a peace offering.

"It'll be okay, Kate!" Jack calls out to her, and Aaron's screaming again, and Sayid looks at her with such remorse in his eyes, she wonders if she died before his eyes.

And she's finally a prisoner. Not a criminal or a fugitive or a castaway, but a prisoner.

This has been a long time coming.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Post-Mortem

**Chapter:** 3/4

**Author:** Girl Who Writes

**Email:** Ask and ye shall receive. Take and ye shall be beaten.

**Timeline:** This story takes place two years after the crash.

**Disclaimer:** I make no claim of ownership nor do I make any sort of profit from the use of these characters; they belong to J.J Abrams and the ABC. I am merely a poor fan who just used her last five dollars on EBay.

**Author's Notes:** Once again, I am blown away by the response my humble little fic has gotten. You may/not have noticed, but I have decided upon four chapters rather than three, because I came up with a perfect epilogue (in English; I'm aiming to give my teacher an aneurysm before I graduate). So, there will be one more chapter.

I was a little worried about the end of this chapter and whether it was cliche and predictable. Let me know your thoughts, because I honestly love feedback. (And with reviewers who are so lovely, who doesn't? ) To those who like the Sawyer interaction, the final chapter will have a little more of that. I hope you enjoy this!

* * *

The first thing she does when she gets out is to put on the orange shirt and a pair of jeans that still smell of salt water. Or maybe her mind is just hopeful. She walks out into the street and looks up at the sky and smiles.

It takes her a week to find him – well a few hours to find him, a few days to earn the money to get herself there and a day in the back of bus because she'll never set foot on a plane again; at least, she'll never get on a plane again without a spinal surgeon and a conman.

And she makes it to Los Angeles, her orange t shirt covered in dirt and she hasn't slept in days, but she's in Los Angeles. She can almost picture his eyes, his smile.

Her feet hit the pavement in a pair of hiking boots that belong to a dead woman who wore size six and a half. She's meant to wear a seven and wonders what it would be like to wear a new pair of shoes, bought just for her.

She uses her last twenty bucks to get a cab the last ten blocks, and her mind asks her what she plans to do if Jack's moved on, found someone else.

Why is she here again? Five long years since she saw Jack Shepard without a screen in front of them, seven since she got on Flight 815 from Sydney to Los Angeles and six and a half since he kissed her for the first time… she knows why she's here.

The house is tall and foreboding and she spent her childhood wondering what it would be like living in a house like this. She slings her backpack to the ground and presses the doorbell. She brushes her hair out of her eyes and waits.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," a familiar Southern drawl meets her ears and she jerks back into reality to see Sawyer on the other side of the door. She wonders how this happened; she was coming to see Jack, after all.

But something in her breaks and her arms are around Sawyer in a bone crushing hug, and tears are on her face but she won't admit to crying over seeing Sawyer for the first time in five years. He visited her once; a cigarette in one hand and a teasing smile his face. There's something scary about how safe she feels around Sawyer, and how much stronger his presence made her be.

"Who's here, Sawyer?"

She knows its cliché, but she dreamt about his voice, about them on the beach, just talking. She remembers everything – the curve of his neck, the feel of his lips on hers and every line of his tattoo. She's missed him more than she's missed anyone in her entire life, and that's not really saying much, as she has never _missed_ anyone in her life.

"Kate."

He's there in a crisp white shirt and looking stunned. She brushes her hair out of her eyes and smiles at him, and he'll always remember how her face lit up when she saw him.

"I'll leave you two to get reacquainted," Sawyer drawls, pulling a cigarette out of his back pocket and smirking, before wandering deeper into the house and yelling out, "Freckles is home!"

"Don't smoke in the house, Sawyer," Jack calls after him, before turning back to her. He reaches out to her and cups her cheek, and suddenly she's in his arms again, her face buried in his shoulder as he holds her. And she doesn't remember how she got through the last five years.

But she remembers why she came.

"Jack!"

The voice is one she does not recognize. A child is standing in the doorway; only three years old – a girl. She has dark curls and an innocent expression. She slips to Jack's side and stares up at them, and before anyone can reply to the child, they can hear heels clicking on the wooden floor.

"Nathalie!"

And she's faced with an older, no less beautiful Shannon, reaching for the toddler. She looks carefully at Shannon – the years have treated her well; the only difference she can pick up is an extra line or two near Shannon's eyes – and an exceptionally large diamond ring on her left hand.

As Shannon straightens, smoothing Nathalie's hair from her face, she looks at her, and she smiles back, almost tentatively. And wonders if Shannon even recognizes her.

"Kate!"

She does.

Nathalie is passed to Jack as Shannon throws her arms around Kate. She exclaims how Kate hasn't changed at all – except she's thinner, so much thinner – and she welcomes the chatter. Shannon pulls away and takes Nathalie from Jack, beaming.

"I guess I'll leave you two alone now," she says slyly. "Don't stay out here too long."

She shakes her head as Shannon vanishes back into the house, calling out for someone. "Who else is here?" she looks at him, smiling slightly at just being able to _see_ him like this. No plastic screens, no grungy telephones, and no handcuffs.

"Everyone," Jack grins at her, and takes her hand, leading her into the house. She can see light flooding in from one of the other rooms and before they walk through the doorway, Jack stops abruptly and turns to her.

This kiss is something she's dreamed about for five long years. It's passionate and deep and she never wants it to end, really. Her arms wrap around his neck and his arms are around her waist, and she realises no amount of day dreaming can make being _here_ right now any less … perfect for her.

He pulls away and smiles at he; a deep smile where she can see the lines around his eyes, and remembers they've both waited a long time for this.

"Kate!"

"You're back!"

As they step into the lighter room, these are the cries that great her. She blinks for a second, and it's like being around the campfire again. Shannon is sitting on the floor with Nathalie, as the child squeals over a toy. Charlie sits at Claire's feet with a blonde boy who could only be Aaron. Sayid is eyeing Sawyer – who is puffing away at a cigarette regardless of Jack's orders – and smiling at her. Michael and Jin stand up to kiss her on the cheek, and Sun jumps to her feet and gives her a hug reminiscent of Shannon's.

"Why are you all here?" she looks confused for a second, as Jack leads her to a chair. She sinks into it, relishing the softness and becoming very aware of her less than stellar appearance. "What's happening?"

Jack appears by her side once again, offering her a cool drink. He takes a seat next to her, his arm snaking around her shoulders almost unconsciously.

The group is silent.

"It's today, Kate," Michael says, looking at her like she's confessed to a murder.

"Today?" she takes a long drink and settles back against Jack's side.

"We got off the island today five years ago," Charlie clarifies and she's suddenly glad Charlie never lost that British accent.

She blinks and all she can recall from the rescue is Sawyer calling her a lady and Aaron crying.

"I didn't have a calendar in prison," she jokes. There's solemn silence from them all and she shakes her head.

Claire offers a smile. "We're glad you're back, Kate."

She offers Claire a bright smile and realises she has friends; friends who won't leave her behind when they find out she's on the run, and she won't leave them behind because she's running. She's not a fugitive or a criminal or a prisoner anymore. She's a survivor.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Post-Mortem

**Chapter:** 4/4

**Author:** Girl Who Writes

**Email:** Ask and ye shall receive. Take and ye shall be beaten.

**Timeline:** This story takes place two years after the crash.

**Disclaimer:** I make no claim of ownership nor do I make any sort of profit from the use of these characters; they belong to J.J Abrams and the ABC. I am merely a poor fan who just used her last five dollars on EBay.

**Author's Notes: **A string of exams and universtiy applications prevented me from posting this - my formal ended at one this morning. Anyway, this chapter was originally the introduction to the third and final story in this little trilogy, but I thought it would work better as an epilogue, but explains why the tone is a little different.

Anyway, yes, the end of _Post Mortem _ and I hope you'll all read the sequel "Transience".

Reviews make my day :)

* * *

She sits on the balcony, a pair of sunglasses over her eyes and a pen in her hand. She stares out at the morning sky, streaked with pink and gold and promised a beautiful day in Los Angeles. She tilts her head back and just enjoys existence for a moment. 

Her moment is interrupted all too soon, but somewhere clearing their throat and pulling out the chair beside her. She opens her eyes and comes face to face with Sawyer, who takes a sip of coffee and leans back.

"Mornin' Freckles. Sleep well?" He flashes her that cocky smile she knows so well, and she self-consciously tugs her tank top lower before glowering at him.

"What time did you get here?" she asks almost primly, tossing her pen down.

Sawyer runs his hand through his hair and drinks his coffee before replying to her question. "Doc let me in when he left."

She rolls her eyes and refocuses on the paper in front of her. Things have changed more than she thinks they would have – should have. She thought she'd get a bad job because she had no training, little ambition for any sort of career. Once upon a time, she might have wanted to be a vet or something, but she had no idea of what she wanted to do.

She thought she'd be living in a grungy flat outside of the city, where dirt and crime were the second language. And she thought she'd meet up with Jack occasionally.

But she somehow ended up staying in the Shepard house, living with Jack and his mother. Mrs Shepard had made it clear that she didn't particularly approve of Kate for her only son. Mrs Shepard chose to spend the majority of her time staying in spas or visiting friends, leaving her and Jack in the Shepard home together.

She has never been happier than she is, with Jack. He works long hours at the hospital, leaving before she's awake and getting home to microwave take out and the late movie. It gets lonely, some days, in the huge house – some days she calls Sun, who lives across the city – but some days, like today, Sawyer's there to keep her company.

Sawyer took his compensation cheque from Oceanic and bummed around the country. He never contacted any of the survivors when he was on the road in Kansas or Connecticut, but every few months, he'd turn up at Jack's front door with a cigarette and a smirk on his face. All three of them knew that the only reason Sawyer came – and the only reason Jack tolerated Sawyer's presence – was because of her. Because Jack's her partner and Sawyer's her best friend.

"Whatcha writing there, Freckles?" Sawyer takes another swig from her coffee cup and makes a face at the tepid coffee.

"A letter." She glances at the sheets of note paper, mentally scanning what she's already written, what she needs to write.

"To the Doc?" Sawyer gives her a quizzical look.

"To my brother; he's a teacher in Ohio," she explains. "I need to fix things with him."

Sawyer nods like he knows what she's talking about and leans back, staring out over the balcony. They both have demons in their closest, but she can't understand all of his, and he certainly can't understand all of hers.

"Got any plans for today, Freckles?" Sawyer watches her gather together her papers and drain her coffee cup.

"Jack's taking me out to dinner," she smiles up at him, and in a voice very unlike her, "he said he's got a surprise."

Sawyer chuckles and shakes his head. "Before your surprise dinner with Jackass; any plans?"

"Nope. Free as a bird."

And she'll send her brother a letter, trying to fix everything that went wrong. She'll head off to spend the day with Sawyer, and she'll go out to dinner with Jack, where he'll offer her a real future. And nothing could ruin this for her; she's happy.

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End file.
